The Greatest Power of OldAll?
by comicvision
Summary: Tony's always been a loner, but then strange things start happening not long after everyone's settled into the Tower. Loki's powerplay with the Chitauri's aid seems to have stirred up some native weirdness and Tony's attracted their attention. Going it alone isn't an option when you don't even know what you're dealing with. Luckily, he has a Hulk and a Super Soldier in his corner.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **I'm just putting this out here to see what kind of response it gets. I'm a couple of chapters ahead and while I've been working on this for a few months on and off, I think I might be able to see it through. As ever, don't own, don't sue.

* * *

**Chapter One**

The room was quiet and dark. Well, except for the soft hum and glow of the arc reactor, but Tony Stark was used to that by now. Flat on his back, with the covers up to his armpits, the soft, buzzing vibrations of the reactor were amplified by the duvet, sort of like a mini-massage for his triceps. It was nice, soothing. A comfort really. The only real comfort he had now that Pepper had woken up from her awe-inspired daze over his temporarily-selfless heroism and declared herself incapable of both running his company and holding her breath every time he did something extremely dangerous, noble and heroic. Basically, every time he did something stupid even if it meant saving the masses. She, wisely he might add, had chosen the company. That's what he always did, so how could he expect any less of the people around him?

Slowly, gingerly, Tony rolled onto his side. As always the shift in the pull of gravity on his body caused a prick deep inside his chest. Unable to resist – and with no one here in the dark of his bedroom to witness the moment of weakness anyway – Tony carefully laid his fingertips to the center of the arc reactor. It was warm. It continued to hum steadily beneath his fingertips, and the pricking sensation eased between one breath and the next as the shrapnel settled once again into the steady pull of the arc reactor's magnetism. Heavy eyelids drifted shut and Tony let out a soft sigh.

It was rare for him to feel this tired this early. He knew it was only about four in the morning, but even his last three cups of coffee had done nothing to clear the fog from his mind, causing him to turn in and admit defeat by basal body functions. He'd shucked everything but his white tank top and boxers, crawled straight into bed…and here he lay. Alone. Without a Pepper to call or a world to save…even his genius was deserting him tonight his mind unable to focus on schematics for the latest upgrades to the Mark VIIII prototype. Pathetic. Frustrating. Downright-

A clatter of something across the floor froze all thoughts of self-deprecation and woe. Something – a presence – crouched in the dark. He could _feel_ it, suddenly there where there had only been peaceful darkness before. For a moment, Tony thought perhaps it was exhaustion induced hallucinations, an overreaction to something easily explained until the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck began to rise, and he felt something settle between his feet. A rattling sound began, something that felt strangely like the arc reactor's soft humming vibrations against the blankets by his feet. His heart was pounding, his shoulders tense. _Something_ had just crawled into bed with him.

The seconds he knew he had lain still, struggling to keep his breathing steady, felt like hours, but Tony Stark had faced down alien hordes and angry Super Soldiers. He wasn't one to wait for long. Grabbing the .22 Rueger he kept in a holster secured to the nightstand at mattress level, he called, "Lights!" and sat up, aiming between his feet in a simultaneous motion. Panting, feeling his heart pound hard in his chest, he tried to make his mind wrap around the fact that there was nothing. No sound. No vibration. No weight on the blankets and mattress. Nothing. He had been so sure, so certain that something had settled there. That something had – had _purred_ there. Yes, like a cat! Scrambling forward toward the foot of the bed, Tony's eyes darted all around the floor.

"JARVIS! Lifeform count in the Tower."

"Yes, sir. Yourself. Dr. Banner is in one of the upper level laboratories. Agents Coulson and Barton are asleep in Agent Barton's room. Agent Romanov is asleep in her room as well and Captain Rogers is on his seventh punching bag in the gym. There are thirty-seven security scattered throughout the Tower and a handful of insects that have not yet been disintegrated by your Robotic Roach Assassins."

_Coulson and Barton…Huh._ "And the lifeform count within the Tower about six and a half to eight minutes ago?"

There was a pause. A pause was never good.

"Sir, my readings for that small frame of time – precisely from four twenty-one to four twenty-three - …are scrambled."

"Scrambled."

"Yes, sir."

Tony took a deep breath. "Well, unscramble it."

"I've been trying, sir."

Pushing the safety back on, Tony twisted and reached up, ignoring the pricking inside his chest and sliding the Rueger home with ease. Rolling off the mattress and to his feet, he approached the desk and laid a hand on the surface. Immediately a computer screen came to life beneath his palm. "Show me."

Streams of data lines poured through a pop up box the moment it appeared. White letters and numbers pouring through codes and algorithms. Next came the video feed. It was a well-kept secret that while Tony respected and…even sort of kind of trusted his permanent houseguests, it never hurt to be overly cautious for everyone's safety. Thus, there were _very_ well-hidden cameras in every room. Except the bathrooms. Well, there were still cameras in the bathrooms. They just weren't on. All the time anyway.

There! "Stop feeds." All the videos paused. Yep, Coulson and Barton were a tangled mess of limbs and sheets. Natasha was curled in the fetal position. Bruce was paused right in the middle of combining two liquids. Tony cocked his head. The goofy bastard was trying to make cream soda. What the hell? Snorting a short laugh, Tony looked to the next stilled video. Captain America, in all his Old Glory-less glory, was paused mid-knockout, the seventh punching bag a cloud of expressed sand and flying bag. For a moment, Tony just allowed himself to sidetrack. To drink in all of that muscle and patriotism…and then his eyes moved on. Dreams and fantasies were best kept for times when he wasn't possibly losing his mind or hunting down an intruder.

The rest of the screens were the same – all personnel doing their dutiful duties and earning the money Tony so generously paid them – except for the stilled scene in his room. The image was distorted, like running paint. Brown eyes narrowed as he studied the image. "JARVIS, zoom in on my feet. Enhance." The desktop filled with the image of his bedroom. Then the image was zoomed in on again and the area of the image where his feet should have been came into blurred focus. After a second, the image grew sharper, though no less drippy. However, instead of pooled grey-cream – the color of the rest of the duvet in the dark room – the spot between his feet was pitch black. Tony's heart stuttered, but his expression remained grim. "Save that JARVIS. And be on alert for similar disruptions to the video feeds, indefinitely."

"Of course, sir."

Turning back to his bed, Tony stared at the space in question near the foot of his bed. Was it his imagination, or was there an almost circular indent to the duvet there?

Tony decided not to say anything to anyone about the strangeness of last night. It might have been nothing. It might have been exhaustion. He might be cracking. It was all too uncertain with just one incident. While spooky, it might just as well have been some crazy sort of prank played by Clint or Natasha. It wasn't as if his life had been threatened in that moment. He didn't believe in ghosts. Not really. Well, really there was no empirical evidence either way, but he still found it very highly unlikely. Why would a spirit wait so damn long to make contact? He'd have to research that thought later. After his caffeine fix, his morning updates on news and stocks and after he'd sorted his overnight emails.

He found Steve already up when he went into the kitchen for his morning coffee or four. They both made companionable noises in greeting and then went back to their morning fill-up. Captain America, of course, had himself a full-course meal, all laid out neatly on a plate. The smell of food that early in the morning was almost enough to turn Tony's stomach. Coffee first, food around lunch. Maybe. If Steve eyed him a little longer just before he carried his third cup – the first two having been downed already – of coffee out to the common room, it wasn't that unusual because he always did that when he suspected Tony of pushing himself.

Settling on the couch, Tony set his cup on a coaster at his right elbow and picked up one of his many lay-about tablets. It booted quickly at his touch and he called out to JARVIS, "Split screen, CNN and FOX, I wanna see my stock updates and email on the pad. Thank you."

"You're welcome, sir."

The screens simultaneously snapped into life, giving him just what he'd asked for. JARVIS was amazing. Of course, he was because Tony had designed, programmed and given artificial life to him. Still, he always felt a little pang of pride with how adequate his AI was. "Anything more on our little moment last night, JARVIS?"

"Nothing, sir."

"Good." His eyes began to focus entirely on his tablet when a voice spoke curiously from behind him.

"What moment?"

That deep voice was enough to send shivers down even the straightest man's spine. Tony didn't flinch despite said shiver. "Nothing that concerns you, Captain. Why don't you sit down and we'll split the screen again? Catch up on ESPN."

A weight settled at the other end of the couch and the screen of his giant plasma TV slid into three partitions. JARVIS turned the volume on the two news channels down and put up the subtitles for them while leaving the volume for ESPN at a comfortable level. Tony let a small smirk twist one corner of his mouth before he resumed scanning his emails. They sat like that with the TV making the only noise between them for a while. By the time Tony was halfway through his email, Steve had twisted around in his spot and placed his feet in Tony's lap. Again, not unusual when it was just them, alone, in the common room, watching TV or a movie or sitting in companionable silence while Tony laid out schematics on a tablet and Steve read a book. Come to think of it, this happened quite a bit actually. Not that Tony was complaining. Or keeping track…

It was over an hour later that Steve finally roused himself from blankly staring at sports stats and speculations. Swinging his feet back to the floor, he rose and stretched, T-shirt riding up enough to expose most of his abdomen. Tony couldn't help but stare out of the corner of his eye. "Let me know if you plan on working on that red Ferrari again this afternoon. I'd be more than happy to help with the heavy lifting."

"Thanks. Thank you, I'll do that. Let you know." Forcibly, Tony reaffixed his gaze to the tablet.

"Good." And with that simple statement, Steve headed down the hall, presumably to his quarters. Tony openly watched his retreating back. No harm no foul.

Once Steve was out of sight around a corner, Tony set the tablet down and blew out a breath.

"He's quite the specimen, isn't he?" came a quiet voice over his shoulder.

Tony started. It was hard not to. Turning in his seat, he smiled with charm at the fidgety Dr. Banner. "Bruce. I didn't know you could sneak."

"You learn a few things when you're trying to stay off the radar." Bruce smiled and took Steve's vacated seat. "How are things going?"

"Percentages are up. The board only has glowing praise for the specs and blueprints of all three new Stark phones and they've approved research and development for the prototype phase. Pepper isn't breaking down the door in a lovely ginger-haired rage and …neither have you for, what is it? Twelve days now? And counting since we're almost halfway through day thirteen."

Bruce smiled wryly and rubbed his fingers firmly into his other palm for a second. "It's a lot harder to stay cool here. There's a lot more personal interaction. Steve insists that I learn hand-to-hand combat. He says 'Just in case' but I don't think that case will ever come to be. Still, it's better than some places and situations I've been through."

Tony smiled and stood. "That's good to know. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a few things to attend to downstairs."

"Sure." Bruce nodded and made a small sweeping 'go ahead' motion with his hand. "I'll catch up with you some more later. I think you might find a few things I've got going on interesting."

"You bet." And with that, Tony was off and on his way to the elevator nevermind that he was still in his sweats and a worn-thin Van Halen T-shirt. His mind was buzzing with a few new thoughts he'd like to at least run through some simulated tests. Last night was barely a memory.

**TBC…**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. I will try to respond to every review, but life gets kind of busy as I'm sure you all know. Updates will be sporadic - as my schedule and muse allow - so sorry for any inconvenience. Thanks again! ConCrit is very welcome and also, this is unbeta'd but I've read through it about four or five times now. If you guys catch anything please let me know. (Don't own, don't sue please.)

* * *

**Chapter Two**

It was well over twelve hours later that Tony lifted his head from where he'd rested it on the computer screen of his workbench. He only remembered about six hours of work, including two failed access attempts by someone (probably an attempt to get him to eat because JARVIS would have let them in if they'd actually needed him), and then he'd taken a nap. Pushing himself into an upright sitting position, Tony mumbled a sleepy, "JARVIS. Time."

"It is currently nine forty-seven at night of the same day, sir. Also…"

JARVIS didn't get to finish. Tony had finally been able to rub enough sleep crusts out of his eyes to look around him. At the _immaculate_ workshop. His workshop. _Completely_ in order. Not a streak of grease on the floor. Not a car part to be seen. Even the _armor_ he'd just finished working on while mind-working his other project so that his hands could be busy…all of it. In its place. Shiny. Spotlessly. And yes, his jaw was hanging open.

"What _happened_?!"

"I went into standby for a routine system backup exactly five minutes after you went into REM sleep for the first time during this rest cycle. At about ten minutes past the start point of this standard backup procedure the camera feed in the workshop scrambled. It remained as such for a total of one hour exactly."

"_How_?!"

"There is nothing conclusive in the footage. The only significant, detectable anomaly being a few small streaks of pigment within the…bleeding colors of the workshop, if you will."

"This doesn't make any sense…"

A pounding on the door to the workshop got his attention and he turned around as the tint lifted to reveal both Steve and Bruce standing by the door.

"Let them in. Or wait! No. Let me out." Tony scrambled to his feet and stalked toward the door. "No one gets in here again until I've thoroughly reviewed that footage. No one."

"Understood, sir."

The door hissed open and Tony slid out the door nearly slamming shut on him except that it didn't. Steve stared down at him with a look bordering on worry around his eyes. "You're pale. Are you alright?"

Tony flashed them both a winning smile and stepped between them, putting an arm over each of their shoulders and guiding them back toward the elevators. It was easier to put an arm around Bruce, more pleasurable to wrap one around Steve. "I'm fine. Fell asleep. Who knew I was that tired?"

Both men raised the hand not penned in by Tony's body. "Very funny, guys," Tony grumbled and released them both once all three of them had stepped into the elevator. "You know what, I'm starving. Forgot breakfast and lunch again. Why don't we order dinner in? Chinese? Or maybe even Thai?"

Steve sighed. "I tried to make you come up for food, but JARVIS refused to let me in. He told me you were sleeping peacefully and that that was more important than food at the moment anyway because you hadn't slept at all last night."

Tony frowned. JARVIS could be such a traitor when it came to Captain Steve Rogers. He didn't even give up that kind of information for Pepper or Rhodey. Bruce's soft voice broke into the staring contest between his two teammates. "I also came down once. Just to see if you were free. JARVIS had an automated response set at the time so I assumed you were really engrossed."

Tony noted with interest that the statement from Bruce about also checking up on Tony had caught Steve's attention. A strange look passed briefly across the good Captain's face before he shook his head. "Tony," he stated in that firm and steady Captain America voice. "You need to start taking better care of yourself. Your teammates are concerned, and I'm starting to wonder if I'm going to have to break down the door to the shop in the near future."

Tony's lips pursed briefly before he looked from Steve to Bruce. "First, there was no need for concern. JARVIS goes into auto-response mode when he's backing up his system files onto the many – and I mean many – remote storage systems of Stark Industries." Now, he turned to Steve again and despite his best efforts, he felt his expression soften just a little. "I'll try to be less of a cranky ass bastard about you guys checking up on me in the workshop, but there will be _limits_ to what's considered an acceptable disturbance. There! Now, is everyone happy?"

Steve and Bruce glanced at each other for a moment and then both of them nodded. Tony's smile widened. "Perfect. Now, was it Chinese then? And call the troops! It's family-bonding time."

Together they stepped off the elevator and started a casual walk down the hall toward the common room. As they passed, they were joined by Agent Coulson. Apparently, Phil wasn't happy about something given the look on his face. Putting on his most charming smile, Tony focused it in Phil's direction. "Hey there, Phil. The girl; she turn you down for a Skype date or something? You look a little irritable."

The man shook his head. "SHIELD's been fielding some strange reports lately."

"Strange even for SHIELD you mean." Bruce spoke as if he already knew the answer.

Phil nodded. "Yeah. Obviously, you guys will know what we know when the time comes. If it ever does. It just seems so…"

"Out there," Tony supplied and Phil gave him a sharp look. Tony shrugged and flopped into his favorite spot on the couch since they'd made it to the common room. He made a mental note to have JARVIS hack the SHIELD servers again and root out the info Phil was referring to. Reaching over to the same lay-about tablet he'd been using that morning, he silently gave JARVIS a set of search parameters and asked aloud, "JARVIS, ETA on the rest of the minions?"

"Minions?" Bruce asked with a raised eyebrow. Steve looked like he wanted to chastise Tony for his word choice, but JARVIS answered before he could even open his mouth.

"Three minutes."

"Thank you. Please dial my favorite Chinese restaurant. You know the one."

"Of course, sir."

While JARVIS did just that, Steve settled in the seat next to Tony. Bruce took a reclining chair to the far side of the couch from Tony, and Phil took one half of the loveseat. A moment later Clint settled next to him. Knowing what he did now…made it very hard not to be crass and out them, but he reminded himself sternly and in a very firm, Captain-America-would-be-proud-to-hear-it mental voice that these people were his friends. The only ones he'd ever had besides Pepper and Rhodey and it was high time he gave them at least a small amount of respect. Just a little. Coulson and Barton were bound to out themselves eventually anyway. And wouldn't he just look awesome when he was unfazed and able to state that he'd known for a while? That would probably be much more fun in the end. Yeah. The looks on their faces…he could almost see them now.

Natasha trailed in last of all and smirked. "I just got a phone call from Thor."

"Why does he call you? I thought he liked me best…" Tony pouted, sounding more affronted than he actually felt, but playing it up to cover that he was truthfully affronted at all. The others just ignored him anyway.

Steve grinned as she sat next to him on the last place on the couch. "He's back on Earth then?"

Natasha nodded and drew one leg up to her chest resting her cheek on it. Apparently she was in a 'Natalie' mood tonight. "Yep. Said he was going to spend a while with Jane then drop in here for a while."

"Fantastic." And Steve sounded so genuinely delighted that Tony just had to take it down a few notches.

"Yeah, it'll be nice to have the guy around again." Wait. That wasn't taking it down even _a_ notch. Oh, what the hell. Thor was his favorite after Steve anyway. A close tie with Bruce really. The jury was still out on the rest of them. Mostly.

Clint finally cleared his throat and asked, "When's the food comin'?"

"It will be delivered in an estimated thirty more minutes, Agent Barton. I took the liberty of ordering everyone's favorite."

Natasha smiled. "Thank you, JARVIS. It's a pity most men don't have that kind of memory."

"It takes real…cahonas…to say something like that in a room full of men. Super-powered or otherwise specially equipped men at that," Tony pointed out and toasted her stare with an imaginary snifter.

To Tony's delight, Bruce leaned over a little and murmured softly, "He's got you there."

That got a round of teasing going everyone joining in with some witty retort or smart mouthed comment. Tony was really, really enjoying himself, but about twenty or so minutes into the banterfest he noticed that one teammate had remained fairly silent. Steve, fiddling with one of Tony's tablets, was watching Tony out of the corner of his eye and Tony had the sinking feeling that Steve at least was well aware that Tony had been hiding something when he'd emerged from his workshop. Probably because he'd conceded to their demands far too quickly. Damn it! Maybe he should just tell them…confide in them a little about the crazy things had been happening. If it was a practical joke he could get the prankster back. If it was nothing and there was a logical explanation that somehow he and JARVIS had missed, great! Except that he knew that wasn't a possibility. And if it was really a threat…at least he'd have backup.

"The food has arrived, sir."

Thoughts temporarily derailed, Tony got quickly to his feet, ignoring the stabbing prick in his chest with the long ease of practice. "Thank you, JARVIS. I'll retrieve the meal, whilst you all…figure out what we're going to watch. Nothing too old!" he called over his shoulder and trotted down the hall to the elevator. At least in this crowd he would be safe from the craziness of his predicament for a little bit. It would give JARVIS time to research and collect data as well as give Tony time to settle his mind and try to figure out what was going on. It would also give him a chance to decide if he was going to play the whole team game or not on this one too. Which, hey, choices. Who could complain about that?

He returned moments later with a box of takeout foods and he was greeted with eager and hungry hands. Before too long the common area was cluttered with takeout containers of all kinds and they were well into the beginning of some Rom-Com. Tony really didn't care, especially not once Steve's thigh found its way to resting firmly against his own. Made it very hard to focus on anything else but that long, warm stretch of contact. The pleasure was short lived.

Phil's hand flew to his ear about two thirds of the way through the movie. He stood a second later, saying only, "Avengers. Assemble."

And with that call to action, he was striding away. Tony got to his feet grumbling while the others all leapt into motion. Well, all of the others except Bruce who got slowly to his feet and looked at Tony. "Do you think…"

"Nah. No." Tony shook his head, grinning and taking the three steps forward between them so that he could clap Bruce on the shoulder. "C'mon! It'll be fun! You smash and I'll shoot things. What better stress relief is there than that?"

Bruce gave him a small, hesitant smile and rubbed his hands together. "Okay. Yeah. Let's uh…suit up."

"Now we're talking!"

It was a routine op. Sure they'd all been knocked around a little more than usual. Iron Man refused to believe it was because he might have been a little bit of a weak link. He was tired, damn it. More tired than he could ever remember being except for maybe…definitely except for after _that_. Then again forced captivity and a newly placed electromagnet would do that to anyone.

At least this mission was over and done with. Maybe now he'd get some rest. Shaking his head, he turned from the Hydra unit now being shut into the back of a SHIELD escort vehicle. Captain America, Hulk, Hawkeye and Black Widow were all standing on the nearby sidewalk, Iron Man having been the last to bring in his quarry (a foolish pair of Hydraphants with rocket packs strapped to them. As if they could outfly him. Please.)

"Hey, uh, what's up with the big guy?" It wasn't until he neared them that he noticed something was up. The Hulk was hunched and squatting, his back to everyone like he was hiding something. Or protecting it. "He's not hurt…"

Captain America shook his head. "We can't tell. He won't show us."

"At least he's not raging aroun…" Hawkeye began while carefully examining each and every one of his retrieved arrow shafts. Black Widow had shushed him with a hand motion before he'd finished his sentence. Smart, smart woman.

Striding past them all (something made far more impressive when he was surrounded by the sounds specific to his armor), he muttered a soft metallic scoff of "Amateurs." Iron Man then moved confidently around to face the Hulk. The big green guy just shuffled a little, keeping whatever it was hidden. "Hey there, big fella."

Hulk glanced up at Iron Man's greeting then simply looked back into his hands and lap. His expression was almost gentle.

"Whatcha got there?" Iron man took a step closer and the Hulk tensed (so did everyone else except for Iron Man) then jerked his head up. He glanced down once more, quickly, then fixed a wary eye on his armor encased teammate. A subtle staying motion with one gold and red gauntleted hand stayed any further action from the rest of the team, so he turned his full attention to the Hulk and continued his casual and one-sided conversation. "It's okay. I pick stuff up all the time," Iron Man's robot voice continued nonchalantly. "Never know when something interesting might be useful. Or sometimes…things are just nice to look at."

Hawkeye muttered something like, "What the hell is he talking about?" But Iron Man ignored him in favor of letting his hands fall to his sides. Captain America was shushing him anyway. Served him right. Hulk glanced down again, and Iron Man tried to get a good angle. He saw nothing but shadows.

"There is a faint heartbeat." Good ol' JARVIS. "It's very fast, and, with Dr. Banner's abnormally louder heartbeat and lung sounds, difficult to detect, but it's there."

"Human?" he muttered, keeping his voice low and off the armor's PA.

"Too fast, sir."

"That's a relief." Tuning his voice back out into the world, Iron Man took another step forward. The Hulk grunted and shifted back again. "Can I maybe help? I mean, I know you've probably got everything under control and all, but that's what friends do. We offer help. So, can I?"

There was a brief pause and then the Hulk sighed hugely and unfurled, offering Iron Man his first look at an abnormally large black cat. It lay still in the palm of Hulk's massive green hand, standing out starkly against the strangely pigmented skin. Now that he could get his scanners on it, he shut the PA down and consulted his AI. "JARVIS?"

"It is alive and relatively unharmed. The fast heartbeat is well within normal limits for a feline. This one is somewhat outside of the normal standard in size, but seems to be in otherwise prim health. Apparently, it was just knocked around a bit during the altercation."

"Fleas?"

"None. Nor would I suspect it to be host to any other parasites. None that my scans can detect."

"Alright then." Raising his hands in a calming gesture, Iron Man put as much grin in his voice as he could and flipped back to PA. "JARVIS says you can keep it. Far be it from me to argue with the house."

Hulk grinned and laid a very gentle fingertip on the cat's back, stroking fur that looked as soft as silk. Crisis averted, Iron Man turned back to the team. "Avengers, meet Hulkitty."

"It's a cat." Captain America just had this way of stating things that made the words both a question and a statement. It got a little bit on his nerves, but Iron Man could be a forgiving guy. Sometimes.

"Yeah. A big, black one." Sometimes the robotic sounding voice of the armor amplified the humor in his real voice to just the right level. He loved those moments.

"How did he…" Hawkeye trailed off as Hulk turned and proudly presented them with the kitty in question. Wise of the archer if he didn't want to put them back at square one.

"Well done." And while it appeared that Captain America was speaking to the Hulk, Iron Man could have sworn he cast a very directed look his red and gold way. "Let's all get back to base. Maybe the cat will be hungry when it wakes up from its nap."

Grunting in approval, the Hulk started walking toward the standard issue jet they borrowed from SHIELD. One of these days, Iron Man swore he would build them their own jet. He just…hadn't had the time. Yet. But soon! Trailing behind the team, Iron Man consulted JARVIS one last time before the flight home. "Hey, JARVIS. See if you can get that grocery clerk that delivers our groceries to make a special trip. Our new houseguest is going to need a few things."

"Already done, sir."

**TBC…**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:**** Sorry it's taken a while to update, everyone. Life's been a little hectic. No worries though. I have every intention of finishing this tale. It just might take a while. lol (Don't own/Don'te sue plea still stands)**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

True to his word JARVIS had indeed contacted the delivery clerk that Tony paid by the half hour and, by the time they all arrived back at base camp, showered and started to meet in the kitchen, there were grocery bags set on the island's marble top. Tony, towel draped over his shoulders and shirt comfortably covering his arc reactor from view, started poking through them immediately. "We have cat chow. We have the canned stuff. There's tuna. Some toys both catnip and non. And, of course, kitty litter and a pan."

Clint was the only other one already done cleaning up, and he looked at Tony like Tony had lost his mind. "What was that back there, Tinman?"

Tony gave him a flippant look. "What was what?"

"You could have just as easily sent him off the other way. You should've backed down."

Tony shrugged. "But I didn't. He's our teammate. I have faith – as strange…as that actually sounds coming from me – in his inherent goodness and all that crap. Stop dwelling in the past. It ruins your future."

Clint looked like he might say something else, but Steve with his super soldier senses, came to Tony's rescue. In Tony's mind anyway. He actually just pushed through the doorway and immediately began looking through the stuff stacked on the island. "Do we have everything?"

"I love how we just accept that there's going to be a pet living with us now." Phil came in a few steps behind Steve, rubbing a towel over his short hair. "No questions asked. The Hulk wants it and he gets it."

Tony snorted. "I asked JARVIS."

The smirk on Phil's face said it all. "And would you have said no, if JARVIS had declined?"

Ignoring the wicked smirk on Clint's face, Tony stared levelly back at Phil and asked in return, "Would you?"

"Break it up," Steve muttered absently as he continued picking through the items on the island top. "Seafood Medley," he read. "This isn't so bad. Who knew having a cat would be so easy?"

Tony turned away from Phil after a moment more of staring. He already knew the answer anyway. When the Hulk asked, the Hulk received. It was a damn good thing Bruce was mild-mannered and too good at the core to take advantage of such a power. "This is just the basics. Let's see what Bruce wants to do about the cat before we make any permanent decisions or purchases."

Natasha strolled in looking perfect. Even her little split lip looked good. Sometimes he suspected she was a mutant, or – or a Super Soldier test subject that turned out weak or something. "I don't know. Having a pet might be good for Bruce. They're very good for the health from what I've heard."

"Black Widow talks to people about pets? That's just a little…I don't know, weird."

Natasha smiled at him. Frankly, she scared the shit out of him with her fake-normal expressions. "I have friends, you know, Stark."

Tony raised his hands in surrender because, no. He really didn't want to know. He was saved once again by the opening of the door and the entrance of Bruce. The cat sat primly in his arms, front paws on his shoulder and looking back the way they'd come. He half-smiled, briefly, in his shy way and then gently maneuvered the cat onto the island top for everyone to see. The cat instantly began to step with ginger paws through the items, sniffing around.

"Have you named it yet?" Steve was offering his fingers in greeting to the cat who sniffed them delicately before butting its black head against Steve's hand. Obligingly, the man started to scratch and stroke the cat's head. "Hey. She's not all black. There's a small white spot. Here."

And now Steve was scratching the animal's chest and that was just so unfair. Bruce spoke up, breaking into Tony's unhappy thoughts. "I thought we could put names into a hat and draw out one or two. Then, uhm, decide from there. If we're keeping her."

"Do you think you can safely get rid of it?" Clint was always direct. That was at least one respectable thing about the guy.

"Probably not. The other guy…might not be very happy about her leaving." Bruce reached out and stroked a hand down the cat's back. She arched into the touch and then turned around sharply to butt her head against his hand, too. Both Steve and Bruce were smiling.

"Well. That settles it then. The cat stays and we'll draw a name out of a hat in two days. I'll supply the hat in just a few minutes and you all can make your submissions. Keep 'em clean and well cat-like."

Natasha was talking over him, asking if Bruce was sure it was a girl. Steve was asking how she checked out because he was certain Bruce had given her at least a somewhat medical exam when she'd woken up. It hurt more that Steve was basically ignoring him than that Natasha was. Natasha always ignored him. Steve was…usually more polite than that. It was understandable though. The cat _was_ rather distracting, moving from person to person, sniffing offered fingers and then headbutting them. When she got to Tony, she simply sat and looked up at him. Her eyes were intensely piercing, strange and...he couldn't put a finger on what made them so.

Phil, the smartass, smirked and said, "I think she's waiting for an introduction."

Tony glanced at Phil. Licking his lips, he wiped his free hand – the one not holding his coffee – on the leg of his sweatpants and then stuck his hand toward the cat. He was _not_ nervous. Just wary. Cat mouths were disgusting and they could bite. The cat stared at him a moment more then flicked her tail once and leaned forward, butting her head against his fingers without sniffing them first. Tony tentatively scratched the very crown of her head and cradled his mug in both hands quickly thereafter. The cat walked back over to its new possessions and started sniffing around again. With a nod, Tony turned and made for the kitchen door. "I'll just…go get that hat.

The idea of a cat being in the Tower after the other night was a little disconcerting. He wasn't sure why he felt a little wigged out by it, but something was telling him to be wary. He re-entered the kitchen with one of his prototype faceplate and helmet combos from the Mark II and set it on the countertop with a thunk. It was very unsatisfying that the cat didn't stop its investigation of the litter pan at the noise. Tony looked up to announce the official beginning of the naming contest and froze. Steve was looking at him with a strange look on his face. It was strange because Tony rarely saw that look directed at him by anyone but Pepper Potts, James Rhodes and Happy Hammond. Steve lost the look for a smile a split second after that moment of surprise.

"I'll grab some paper and pens," Steve announced and headed for the kitchen junk drawer. "How long do we want to wait before drawing?"

Tony was still too busy staring at Steve and pondering that look. Luckily for him, Bruce spoke up. "A day or two maybe? That way everyone can drop a few names in and we'll have more of a pool to draw from."

"Sounds good." Steve was already back and passing out index cards and mini-pencils. Tony hadn't even known those were in the Tower let alone right there in the kitchen. "Tony?"

Startled Tony reached over and snatched his card and pencil then cleared his throat. "Yeah. Sounds good."

There was that look again. Tony sometimes thought it was concern. At others – most others – he assumed it was some fond level of resignation that he was eccentric and incorrigible and there was nothing anyone – even _close_ friends – would be able to do about it. Having had enough of being social and being around a cat that kinda-maybe freaked him out because he could have sworn there had been purring in his room when there was nothing really there a few nights ago, Tony turned to leave pencil and card forgotten in his hand when JARVIS announced, "Sir, your quarters. It began precisely fifteen seconds ago."

Tony took off at a run, the coffee cup miraculously finding its way to the edge of the island without falling to its messy death. He heard Steve start after him and ignored it. Whatever was going on…it might be nice to have back up. By the time he and Steve – and Bruce, what do you know – reached Tony's bedroom JARVIS had announced the end of the incident, stopping them just outside the cracked door.

To their credit, no one said a word, but Steve took up a ready stance while Bruce sort of hung back a bit as Tony reached a shaky hand toward the door. It opened easily on well-oiled hinges. JARVIS obligingly turned the light on as soon as it was all the way open. There was a pause and then Tony turned his back to the room. "False alarm," he stated cheerily. "I've been tinkering with little things here and there before bed. You know how that goes sometimes. With me. Explosions or results. Apparently, for some reason this time I got neither. Nothing to see here. Thanks for checking with me. Now I think I'll just see what JARVIS thought might be happening."

As he spoke he slowly started backing into his bedroom. Bruce looked worried still, but Steve just nodded his face neutral. "See you for the evening news if you make it," was all he said before turning away himself and motioning to Bruce to follow. Bruce did, but not without one last look at Tony. Tony ignored it and gently closed the door, counted to ten and then turned around. "The same as the workshop."

"Exactly, sir."

"Thank you, JARVIS." Moving to his desk, Tony touched the surface to wake the computer interface there and started tapping away, also giving verbal instructions. "Bring up all the footage we've got so far. I want to compare everything. A full spectral analysis, audio examination, motion detection, color comparisons frame to frame. It's runny, but doable."

"Right away, sir."

Three hours later, they had what they'd started with. Nothing.

"I just don't get it. A cat-like _something_ at the foot of my bed that wasn't really there but I know it was, and then suddenly my personal space is mysteriously broken into and scrubbed clean from top to bottom. Organized."

He'd sat down at his desk somewhere along the way and now he leaned back from his hunched over position and put a finger to his lips in thought. Nothing rang a bell for anything. He couldn't associate this with anything he'd ever come across before. Hell, it didn't even make sense. "JARVIS, start surfing the web. Look for anything that seems similar all over the globe. I'm at a loss. Just do the best you can, see what comes up."

"Right away, sir."

"I'm going out for a coffee. A walk will maybe jog some thoughts or connections. If this is one of the team…I'm gonna hurt someone." Standing, Tony stretched and then turned to his closet and dresser. He needed to get dressed before he could step out. Even his jeans had been pressed and folded perfectly he discovered to his dismay. Still he sucked it up and pulled them on. A Black Sabbath t-shirt and a leather jacket and all he needed were the right shoes to match.

The walk to the coffee shop had been uneventful and uninspiring. Nothing came to mind. Nothing fired any spark of recognition. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. A genius mind like his and he couldn't even remotely figure this thing out. Yet. Honestly, he had to give himself some credit. It had been a couple days since this all started at most. Certainly, he _was_ a genius but some equations were harder to solve than others. He knew from personal experience. Rubbing absently at the Arc Reactor, Tony took another sip of double espresso. It wasn't as good as it usually was because apparently his usual barista was out with a cold. The young man behind the counter had recognized him, gone nervous and rushed the process. Sighing, Tony took the turn that put him on the same street as the Tower and hesitated. It felt like he was being watched. Not the paparazzi kind of watched, but the creepy kind of watched. It was well into night now, so looking around with human eyes alone would probably get him nowhere. Instead, he subtly stretched his legs and picked up his pace, glancing at his watch for cover. If he'd just realized he might be late for something, he had every reason to be rushing back.

The feeling followed him all the way to the private entrance doors and then quite simply and suddenly vanished. He hadn't realized how oppressive the feeling had become until it was suddenly gone. Tony staggered like a weight had slid off his shoulders and leaned back against the wall next to the door as soon as it had been closed and locked. His heart was pounding. The tiny ache of the shrapnel readjusting to the changes of his position and physical rhythms was sharp for about three seconds and then faded. It was an odd comfort, a bit morbid even, but still a comfort it was. It was a reassurance that he was alive and very determined in his own mind to stay that way. He'd proven that much.

Straightening from the wall, he tugged his jacket back in place, took another mouthful of the coffee then tossed the rest in the garbage can on his way into the waiting elevator. He'd make something better upstairs before attacking his problem with a renewed sense of I-can-do-this-because-I-can-do-anything-because-I'm-Tony-Stark.

It was getting harder and harder to shake the feeling that his life was turning into some amalgam of a sci-fi based horror film in which they just hadn't gotten to the horror yet. Ghosts might maybe exist in the crazy world he lived in, but that didn't mean he had to live in terror like the common folk. Iron Man feared no one and nothing. Not invading alien forces or even Casper the _un_friendly ghost. And again there was no hard evidence proving that ghosts existed, so really it was probably just some paranoia or something. Maybe he'd settle himself in for some Stark Industries medical equipment testing in the lab. See what that turned up.

Stepping off the elevator and into the apartment level, Tony made his way to the kitchen. Better coffee awaited him there…and so did a cat. She sat primly on the countertop next to the coffeemaker. Strange eyes looked serenely back at him and _there_! That was what made them strange! They were two different colors: one pale green, the other a similar yellow. It was only really noticeable if one looked really closely. Weird.

"Uhm," he hummed the unwavering stare making him a little more than nervous. Would the cat turn on him if he tried to make coffee? He really didn't want to go to the hospital for cat wounds. Just the thought of all the drugs they'd have to put him on because of that creature's filthy mouth made him want to gag. "Shoo, kitty."

The cat stared at him.

"Shoo. Move along. I want some coffee and you're…in the way."

The cat stared at him for a few moments longer then slowly stood, hopped down and walked away. He watched as it stood on its hind paws and pushed the two-way door so it could get out. It was very hard to think of the cat as a she – though he was trying – when it was just so…alien in his presence. He'd never had a pet before. Not even a hermit crab or a gerbil. Shaking himself from the strangeness, he set about making his coffee. It was just a cat. What could it really do to him when it seemed so…tame anyway?

What the cat could do to him, it turned out, was take up far too much of his precious time. Steve came down to the workshop exactly two nights later and politely cleared his throat. Tony pretended not to hear for a moment but when Steve did it again, Tony gave in, which, honestly, was more than he did for Pepper when she came down even now when he barely saw her because she was always away on business and they were, y'know, broken up. "Yes, Steve?"

There. Not a lot of attitude in that. He was very proud.

"We're ready to draw names for the cat," Steve stated with a grin. "We were just waiting on you."

"Oh." Damn it.

Steve's smile never wavered. "How much longer do you think you'll be?"

And damn that smile too. Tony flicked a hand in the direction of the schematics he'd been working on for more power to the thrusters and repulsor systems, JARVIS saving them automatically. "I'm ready right now. Let's get this …done."

To Tony's great pleasure, Steve's smile brightened. "Well, that was easy. Everyone said I was crazy to bother and that we might be better off not waiting. You're not as stiff as they think."

_I'm stiff alright. Just not in the way you think._ "That's good. I told you I'd try harder." Wow. And he _had_ said that and he _was_ trying. Go him!

"Thanks, Tony." Steve opened the workshop door for him as they made their way out and upstairs via elevator. "We were all getting worried about you, now that we've seen how you treat yourself sometimes."

"Uhm… thanks," Tony managed then decided to change the subject since this one would only lead to awkwardness or lectures. "What names did you submit?"

"Tony, that's not how this works and you know it." Steve's smirk and raised eyebrow were playful. Tony could have died a happy man right then and there. It was almost like Steve was flirting with him. Which, yeah, okay, Steve flirting with him was probably only going to really happen in his dreams, but hey, this was better than the cranky Steve he had first gotten to know.

"Okay, I'll just guess then shall I?"

The elevator dinged and let them out onto the penthouse floor and they walked into the kitchen in companionable silence. Everyone else was already waiting for them when they slipped through the door. Bruce was hugging the prototype helmet and fidgeting. The man was adorable, and Tony might have totally considered banging him. Except that his libido was infatuated with someone a little more…aw-shucks boy next door and a little less mellowed-out rage-rabbit.

"Do us the honors, Big Guy. What are we going to call your furry little friend?" Tony stated as soon as everyone had fallen silent. The cat itself was sitting on the island counter, surveying her domain and minions. Tony gave a mental wince. Cats…always seemed so haughty to him. So smug. And superior.

Bruce nodded. "Okay, so… I'll just stir these around and then pull one out. As long as everyone agrees that it's suitable, that'll be her name."

Everyone nodded while Bruce rummaged about in the helmet before pulling out a folded submission. Setting the helmet aside, he unfolded it and an affectionate smile tugged the corners of his mouth up. "I like it," he murmured and then looked up. "Miss Mittens."

The cat turned her head to look at Bruce first and then seemed to look about the room. Tony glanced from the cat to Steve – everyone was looking at Steve – and couldn't help the fond smile that turned up the corners of his own mouth. He was pretty sure most of the team wore a similar expression. Steve was slowly turning a bright red as he realized that _yes_, everyone figured out right away that that was _his_ submission. Deciding to spare the now fidgety Super Soldier another moment of stare torture, Tony cleared his throat. "I like it."

Natasha smirked. "I think it fits her."

"At least now I can stop calling her furball as much," Clint added and leaned his chin into his hand.

Phil looked up from his tablet and nodded. "It's suitable."

"It was the only thing that came to mind," Steve murmured, still cherry tomato red. Tony just couldn't help the broad grin that stretched his face. Steve, who was cute at the best of awkward times, was absolutely adorable when he himself was the center of the awkward moment.

"Then it's settled." Bruce grinned. "Miss Mittens it is."

"Too bad Thor wasn't here," Clint stated suddenly. "How much longer is he going to be wherever Jane is?"

Phil shrugged. "A little while longer. He said he might make it here in the next couple days. He just wants to spend a little longer with Jane before coming home."

"Well, we'll just have to ask him what he would have named her if he'd been here for the chance to," Natasha put in.

Tony snorted, "It's going to be something awesomely ridiculous and, yeah, we all want to hear it."

"Of course we all want to hear it," Clint scoffed. "But I also want to hear some of the other names too. Let's see if we can guess who put it in."

Phil actually set aside the laptop and nodded. "Let's give it a go. It'll be a good team building exercise. See who knows who the best."

"This will probably be easy, but let's see," Natasha smirked and leaned forward onto the island. "I'm game."

"Alright, let's do this," Tony stated and took the chair he hadn't yet sat down in. Steve took the one next to him and Bruce sat on Tony's other side. The cat moved over to Bruce and sprawled out where he could rub her belly. Bruce obligingly set the helmet in front of Tony.

"We'll let you do the honors," he said, to which Tony nodded and reached right in.

The first name he pulled out was obvious. "NotMine?"

All eyes turned towards Clint and the archer just shrugged. "I couldn't think of anything but not wanting to be responsible for cleaning up after the cat and I thought it was kinda funny."

Steve's small frown of only a little disapproval made Clint grin a little sheepishly while Phil just shook his head. Tony mimicked him and drew out another folded piece. "Millikan?"

Most of the other Avengers looked around blankly, until Tony pointed a finger in Bruce's direction. "Cute. It's an oil drop experiment," he informed the others and they all hummed and nodded. Tony drew out another one. "Bugatti."

"Yours," they all said in unison and Tony looked around at all of the smiling faces and felt himself smile with a little less asshole in it. If ever there were to be people that Tony Stark could call his own it would be these people. "Right. The next one is Erzabet?"

While the others looked around, Phil turned his attention right to Natasha. "Really?"

Natasha shrugged. "Cat's are bloodthirsty. And regal. I thought the Blood Countess was a fitting namesake for such a natural huntress."

Everyone chuckled at her matter of fact attitude. Of course Natasha would consider naming a cat after someone who was also called the Blood Countess. Tony pulled another since they still had quite a few names left in the pot. "Pepper."

Scoffs and groans met the name and Steve grumbled a disapproving, "Tony…"

Unrepentant and grinning, Tony pulled another name from the helmet. Maybe this wasn't quite as bad as he'd thought. Team bonding and all that was essential, right? And Steve was having a really good time. So that was worth it. He could totally spare a little time to observe that gorgeous smile on Steve's face. There was no 'lose' in this scenario.

**TBC…**


End file.
